Teaching, fellowship, breaking bread, prayer. That is what
life was like for the earliest church. All those converts that
responded to Peter's amazing sermon at Pentecost - three thousand
of them according to the text - put flesh on their new faith by
trying to learn all they could from the apostles' teaching, by
spending time with one another in fellowship, by sharing meals,
and by bowing together in regular times of prayer. And if any of
their number found themselves in need, no problem, the rest
jumped in to help. That is what makes the church the church.
"And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being
saved." No wonder they grew. What a winsome witness they were!
Interesting choice of words here as Luke's description
begins. He says they "DEVOTED themselves to..." This was not a
casual approach. The Greek root (proskartereo) conveys a sense
of being really earnest towards something, to persevere, to be
constantly diligent. These new Christians were serious about
being Christians.
First, they devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching.
Makes sense. They had a lot to learn. They probably had some
religious background. Some may well have seen and heard Jesus as
he made his way around the countryside, but, for whatever reason,
they had not followed closely after that. This thing about the
resurrection was certainly a new wrinkle. They needed to learn.
Truth be told, that is important in every generation. Even
though someone might be born into a Christian home, the details
of the faith are not picked up by osmosis. They have to be
taught. In the earliest ages, the teaching comes from dedicated
moms and dads, brothers and sisters, grandmothers and
grandfathers. But after a time the teaching is concentrated in
the family of faith, the church. Henry Ward Beecher once said,
"The church is not a gallery for the exhibition of eminent
Christians but a school for the education of imperfect ones."
Makes sense. After all, the root meaning of the word "disciple"
is "learner." So we keep coming back to Sunday School. And we
keep coming back to worship.
To be honest, I sometimes despair of our standards. They do
tend to be minimal. In ancient Israel rabbis memorized all of
scripture, not just a favorite verse or two, here and there. In
our own day, students of Islam are expected to memorize the
entire Koran which is about the size of our New Testament. It
takes three days to recite the whole thing. How about that?
Should we require every Christian to memorize the New Testament?
Or if not that, how about having them come to church from week to
week. Too much to ask?
As you know, the Gallup organization regularly conducts
polls of the American people to measure religious attitudes and
beliefs, and they have been doing it for a number of years. Some
findings have remained remarkably consistent. For example about
95% of us profess a belief in God; 85% say the Ten Commandments
are still valid for today (even though half of the people who say
that cannot name even five of the commandments). As to church,
here the numbers get distressing. Only half of the American
people say they think it is important to belong to a church. In
fact, 75% say it is possible to be a good Christian without going
to church. Well, it is surely true that you can be a good person
without coming to church - I know any number of folks like that.
But a good Christian? If you are physically able to come to
church and just do not bother? Good Christian? I don't buy it
and neither does scripture. As our text has it, one of the
things to which these believers were devoted was fellowship.
A pastor was once asked to define "Faithful Attendance at
Worship," and this was his reply: All that I ask is that we apply
the same standards of faithfulness to our church activities that
we would in other areas of our life. That doesn't seem too much
to ask. The church, after all, is concerned about faithfulness.
Consider these examples: if your car started one out of
three times, would you consider it faithful? If the
paperboy skipped Monday and Thursdays, would they be
missed? If you didn't show up at work two or three
times a month, would your boss call you faithful? If
your refrigerator quit a day now and then, would you
excuse it and say, "Oh, well, it works most of the
time." If your water heater greets you with cold water
one or two mornings a week while you were in the
shower, would it be faithful? If you miss a couple of
mortgage payments in a year's time, would your mortgage
holder say, "Oh, well, ten out of twelve isn't bad"?
If you miss worship and attend meetings only often
enough to show you're interested but not often enough
to get involved, are you faithful? (1)
Hmm. Some have suggested that the real miracle of Pentecost
is found right here in this devotion to fellowship -- that from so
diverse an assemblage of people ("from every nation under
heaven") a unified body of believers is formed. They talked
together, they laughed together, they sang together. "See how
those Christians love one another," observers declared. You
remember what passers-by thought was going on at Pentecost - it
sounded like a drunken party, and it was only nine o'clock in the
morning. What a joyous time they had together. And joy should
characterize the life of the church. Fellowship suppers, ball
games, youth trips, golf outings, Broadway nights - these things
may not seem very spiritual to many people, but Christian
fellowship is one of the greatest gifts that the church has to
offer.
For that matter, one need not be a Christian to understand
the importance of fellowship. Harry Golden, that wonderful
Jewish storyteller and publisher of the Carolina Israelite, tells
of a time in his youth when he asked his father, who was not a
believer, "Dad if you don't believe in God, why do you go to the
synagogue regularly?"
Harry's father answered, "Jews go to the synagogue for all
sorts of reasons. My friend Garfinkel, who is Orthodox goes to
talk to God. I go to talk with Garfinkel." Good answer.
Fellowship is important.
I remember a Peanuts comic strip many years ago. Lucy says,
"It's my life and I'll do whatever I want with it. I'm my own
person. It's my life and I'm the one who has to live it." In
the last frame she grins and adds, "With a little help." We all
need that little bit of help from our friends.
Certainly, there are times when we can use a bite of food
with our friends. "They devoted themselves to the apostles'
teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread..."
This bread breaking was probably a bigger deal than we give it
credit for. Remember, this was a disparate group - they came
from everywhere; they were rich poor, male, female, slave, free.
And ever since Junior High School, we have known to be careful
about those with whom we eat. We don't want to be at the
cafeteria table with just ANYone.
Bread breaking IS a big deal. Some years ago, a young
family, new to the community, began attending a particular
church. It was handy to their home. They enjoyed the worship,
their kids liked the Sunday School and youth programs. This
looked for all the world like their new church home. One Sunday,
soon after they had begun attending, a congregational meal was
scheduled following worship, so they decided to stay. They found
a place at an empty table, were served their meal, and then they
left. They never bothered to come back to that church again.
Why? No, it wasn't the food. It was the fellowship...or lack
thereof. No one sat with them. That told them this was NOT the
church for them. Breaking bread is a big deal.
In my book, The Colorblind Church, (2) which many of you have
been kind enough to read, there is the account of an amazing
Christmas program almost 25 years ago that was shared by black
and white Presbyterians in the little village of Liberty Hill,
SC. After a time of worship and celebration we adjourned to the
Fellowship Hall for refreshments. Miracle of miracles, blacks
and whites actually sat down together and ate, something that was
absolutely not done in the rural South of that day. Big deal?
HUGE deal. But this was the church, and sometimes, even in
church, miracles happen.
Such was the case with this new church in the book of Acts.
They "devoted" themselves to this bread breaking, and apparently
they were very intentional about including everyone.
And, finally, they were intentional, they "devoted
themselves to" prayer. More accurately, according to the Greek
text, THE prayers. What is being referred to here is probably
the Jewish prayers and psalms which are to be said at stated
times throughout the day. And these folks continued to think of
themselves as Jews (which is why the text would note that they
"continued to meet together in the temple courts") even as they
struggled to understand their new relationship with Jesus.
Regardless if it is rehearsed or extemporaneous prayer, the act
of taking time out of the routine and rush of the day to pray is
one of the aspects that sustains the community. This is one area
in which we perhaps could learn from our Muslim friends.
E. Stanley Jones once said, "The streams that turn the
machinery of the world take their rise in silent places." You
and I need a source of power for our lives, and we need a source
of power for our church that comes from beyond our own energies,
desires and commitment. We need to spend time in prayer.
The result of all this devotion to the teaching, fellowship,
breaking of bread and prayer was a group that produced astounding
"wonders and miraculous signs," not the least of which was that
"All the believers were together and had everything in common.
Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he
had need."
We hear that, think it's a lovely idea but then set it aside
as a communist dream that simply does not work. Utopian
communities have been tried in a few places, mostly without
success. My Canadian friend Ralph Milton writes, "Our money, the
stuff we own, are far more important to us than we are prepared
to admit. In my circle of friends, we discuss all kinds of
things, some of it very personal, but we never, ever ask, 'How
much do you make?' Or, 'How much do you give away?' Clergy are
not supposed to know how much we cough up each Sunday. But we
put stuff in the offering plates and parade it up front and pray
over it, admitting, by our actions, that our money is the measure
of who we are." (3) Hmm.
By the way, did you notice that phrase near the end of the
lesson that said, this early church went about its business
"enjoying the favor of all the people." In other words, people
liked them. As they made their way in the community, both as
individuals and as a group, they were likeable. In a way, I
almost hate to make mention of that, because I would wish that
any time anyone would think of the church, whatever church it
might be, it would bring a smile to the face. But not these
days. Sadly, in our nation in recent years, the attention that
the church has gotten has not been very smile-producing. It goes
to the extreme religious right and its mean-spirited attacks on
anyone who does not buy into their social agenda or to sexual
predators who have used the church as a cover for their own
perversions. I want things like they used to be, a church that
enjoys "the favor of all the people." Then it would certainly
follow that "the Lord added to their number daily those who were
being saved."
What makes the church the church: teaching, fellowship,
breaking bread, prayer. A winning combination.
I think that I shall never see
A church that's all it ought to be;
A church whose members never stray
Beyond the straight and narrow way;
A church that has no empty pews,
Whose pastor never has the blues;
A church whose elders always speak,
And none is proud and all are meek.
Such perfect churches there may be,
But none of them are known to me.
But still, we'll work and pray and plan
To make our own the best we can. (4)
Two boys were talking about Noah and the ark. They were
thinking about the odors and the noise and the inconvenience of
being cooped up on the boat with all of those animals - about how
crowded and about how dirty, and about the problem of separating
animals that were natural enemies and so on. One of the boys
said, "I just don't think I could stand that." And the other
little boy thought for awhile and he said, "Well, yes, it must
have been awful. But think of it the other way. It was still
the best thing afloat."
That is what I believe that about the church. Sometimes
this is not the most exciting place to be, and sometimes church
people are not all they ought to be. Still, it is the best thing
afloat. I am glad I am here. I hope you are too.
Amen!
1. James S. Hewett, Illustrations Unlimited, (Wheaton: Tyndale House, 1988), p. 87
2. Lima, OH: CSS Publishing, 2007
3. From Ralph Milton's RUMORS, a free Internet 'e-zine' for Christians with a sense of
humor, 4/6/08
4. Hewett, p. 92
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